My Brother's Keeper
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: He tells Gandalf he will not be responsible for the safety and fate of the newest member of the company. Yet despite his doubts and the halfling proving indeed to be a burden, Thorin did. Movieverse.


Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

* * *

My Brother's Keeper

"By Durin's beard…!" the words are breathed somewhere behind you, and you cannot conceal your own amazement as your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Your burglar seems like a tiny doll compared to the three trolls he nervously backs away from. Of course he would somehow fall into a mess like this. Ever since the first day of this quest, when he ridiculously called for turning back to retrieve his handkerchief, he has been trouble.

"Uncle," an urgent tug on your sleeve draws your gaze to Fili, "we have to help him!" There is fear and guilt in his eyes. (Yes, both your nephews deserve to have their heads knocked together for the loss of the ponies in the first place.)

You frown, watching the halfling scramble to escape the trolls' attempts of capturing him. You washed your hands of him from the beginning. He is not your concern, often overlooked and forgotten by most of the company. You all can slip away now undetected, continue on. He would not last on the journey anyway.

"Perhaps we ought to leave him to his fate, sire," Nori whispers in your ear on your other side. "He has no place here. Best put the poor thing out of his misery."

Having your thoughts voiced out loud makes your jaw clench hard. You are bringing forth your axe and speaking sternly yet quietly before you even realize your intention. "Stand by me! Watch for my signal."

* * *

The swift motion and loud noise dies down unexpectedly, and as your gaze lifts up, you half- consciously put out a restraining arm to hold back Kili as he yells your burglar's name.

Each of his four limbs is grasped by a troll, and the foul creatures chuckle menacingly as they slowly pull on them. The hobbit winces painfully.

"Drop your weapons!" one troll orders. "Or…"

Again the halfling's arms and legs are pulled in opposite directions, and he whimpers quietly.

His wide gaze sweeps over you and the others and you catch his eye. You can clearly read his fear along with something akin to resignation. As though he knows the hopelessness of looking for deliverance, accepts that this is the end.

You've seen a look similar to the halfling's before. Many years ago, before the gates of Moria, when you were too far off to be in time for your grandfather…

Bile rises in your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut against the memory of the past and the reality of the present. Angrily, violently you drive your axe into the ground, your hand shaking as you release it. Eyes locking once more with your burglar's, you pray this moment can somehow begin to help atone for your earlier failure to your people.

* * *

"This way, you fools!" Gandalf cries over the wargs' snarls and shouts of the orcs filling the air.

Surprised and hopeful for escape, you and your companions race towards the grey wizard who has materialized among the rock and with a gesture disappears again. You are the first to reach the spot and see an opening in the rock leading downward.

"Hurry!" you shout, turning to guard the entrance.

Absently you count off your dwarves as they rush towards you, Kili lingering behind, bringing down pursuing wargs and orcs with his bow and arrows to give the others more time. Next your eyes find the hobbit. The smallest of the group, he trails behind the rest of the dwarves. Yet he runs swiftly for such a small creature, his face determined and fearful, making for you and safety.

"Faster, Master Baggins!" you urge under your breath, tracking his progress impatiently.

When he reaches you at last, you roughly push him down the rock opening into the helpful, waiting arms below. Today you have no desire to face an angry and grieved wizard if something befalls the hobbit.

* * *

Despite the lingering peril from the stone giants, you smile, nearly laugh, and you cannot remember the last time you have done that. For a dark, too long moment you feared over half of your loyal company had paid the ultimate price when the rock they were stranded on smashed into the mountain pass ahead of you. No, all are safe. And you do not hide your vast relief.

"Where is Bilbo Baggins?"

The question makes you flinch and you quickly realize the hobbit is not among the dwarves. And panic rears its ugly head again; your heart hammers in your chest.

"There!"

He dangles over the edge of the ledge, his small hands gripping the stone desperately, face white and strained, and eyes enormously wide. As you and the rest drop to your knees and crawl toward him, he loses his hold. Bofur manages to grasp one of his hands before he drops out of reach. He swings wildly from side to side, unable to get a grip with his free hand, too far to reach any of the outstretched hands.

You lower yourself over the edge with one hand and reach down with the other, grabbing Master Baggins by his free arm. _Not today_, you promise yourself grimly, _none of the company shall be lost today!_ Between you and Bofur the hobbit is hoisted up to where the others can help bring him to safety.

Then you slip and are rescued. The rare fear and overwhelming relief of the whole ordeal is too much. Not wanting the others to know what you feel, you retreat behind sternness and anger, lashing out and turning your back on the shivering, pale halfling.

* * *

You are trapped. Scattered trees and a sharp drop-off are before you, wargs and orcs behind. You and the others dodge and attack the first wave of beasts. But more are coming.

"Up into the trees!" the command comes from Gandalf.

You kill with your sword a warg that lunges toward you before you sprint towards the clutter of trees.

_Can Bilbo climb trees?_ The unexpected question brings you up short.

You spin around and are already running before you discover him a way's back, struggling to withdraw his weapon from the body of a warg. Vaguely you note the fast approaching orcs behind him, and you run faster, sensing time pressing against you.

Bilbo finally frees his blade just before you reach him. Swiftly you catch him up in your arms. Ignoring his squawk of surprise, you make back for the trees.

"Hurry, Thorin!" Your companions' warning is reinforced by the increasing volume of pursuing snarls.

"Get ready, Bilbo!" you order fiercely as the trees loom closer.

You feel the hobbit shift in your arms and nod against your beard.

Almost there… "Now!" you shout. Simultaneously you throw him into the air and Bilbo reaches up desperately towards the lowest branches of the tree. Without slowing your stride, you make for another tree, your nephews' cheers alerting you that Bilbo made it into his tree, and you release an explosive breath as you climb up to safety.

* * *

"Thank you."

Your gaze moves from the flickering fire to Bilbo seated beside you, looking small and nervous. Tonight the company is quieter than usual, exhausted from the day's adventures with the goblins, Azog, the eagles, and nursing slight wounds. You raise a questioning eyebrow.

"For back there… I used to scamper up trees frequently when I was young. If not for you, I am not sure I could have managed it, being so small and the branches so high…," he trails off, looking half ashamed.

"Peace, Bilbo," you reassure, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Why did you do it?" he asks, looking up at you.

You return your attention to the fire, searching for a way to put your thoughts into words. "After the goblins, you came back," you reply slowly, facing Bilbo again, "despite your longing to go back home. You did not abandon us. And during the attack, I could not do the same to you then. You are part of this company."

Silently Bilbo regards you. Suddenly he shifts closer and wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the fur of your cloak, and your eyes widen at this unexpected gesture.

"Thank you, Thorin," he murmurs.

He starts to draw back but you surprise yourself by wrapping an arm around him, tugging him close once more.

"You are welcome, little one," you answer quietly.

Across the fire your eyes meet Gandalf's, which twinkle with satisfaction. You look back down at Bilbo, and a tiny smile plays over your mouth.

THE END


End file.
